Lonely Jack
by SeaShellEyes09
Summary: Jack Sparrow is in Davvy Jones locker, meeting various strange characters. A collaberation of Depp characters, inspired by a story called One Depp too Far for Mr.Wonka, if you like this one, I recomend checking it out!
1. The man from London

** Disclaimer: The characters in this story don't belong to me. Some dialogue is also taken straight from POTC3 and some of the other movies, and I don't claim it to be my work.**

**To the readers: This story gives away the ending of Secret Window**

"Gentlemen...I wash my hands of this foolishness." Were Jack Sparrow's last word's to his crew of inner-selves, which he never knew he had. Yet nothing like this came as a surprise to him anymore, he was beginning to assume it was all natural.

He grabbed hold a rope, and swung himself to the ground. As he landed, he was thrown off, for the first time, in his days of madness, by the sound of music. Singing to be more precise. He swung around, his hand instinctively touching his sword, preparing himself for the unexpected.

He saw no one. He looked up into the blinding light for a moment to discover for the first time, that there was no one on the Pearl, and never had been. He could still hear the singing. It did not fade, nor grow louder, but it was definitely close by. Not far from the ship. He slowly moved towards the bow, taking large, cautious steps.

"_There's a hole in the world like a great black pit  
and the vermin of the world inhabit it  
and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit  
and it goes by the name of London._"

As he moved around the ship, a dark figure became apparent among the dark shadow cast by the Pearl. A crouching, singing figure, who sat, cross-legged against the arch. The figure continued to sing, in a hoarse, angry tone, and then, a softer, more discreet one.

"_I have sailed the world and seen its wonders,  
for the cruelty of men is as wonderous as Peru  
but there's no place like London!"_

Once Jack was close enough, he made his presence known to the stranger, who's face he still could not see. The figure's head was still bent, toying with a small object in it's hands. Jack tilted the blade of his sword toward's the man.

"Sorry to tell you, mate." he said. "This ship isn't going to London anytime soon."

A pair of dark, sunken eyes turned up at him, and in an instant, the figure emerged from the dark, exclaiming, "YOU, SIR! How about a shave!?"

Jack saw the gleam of the object in his hand first, and then the face of the figure, which was pale with dark, scowling eyes and teeth bared in sheer insanity. The next thing he felt, was chill of the small blade at his throat. The stranger had tackled him to the ground, knocking his own weapon beyond his reach.

"You look far overdue, sir!" a voice growled into his ear. "A good close shave is just what you need! I'll not charge a penny, I garuntee timley service!"

"Get off!" Jack began to scream, before an arm pressed into his throat, cutting off his ability to speak.

"'old still now, if you don't want me to nick you! It'll hurt much worse, if I do!"

Jack managed to free an arm from beneath the stranger's body and reach down to his belt. He felt his pistol, and pulled it out. He fired a shot at the attacker.

BANG!

The man released him, to protect himself. Smoke spewed from the barrel. Jack quickly rose. He'd missed, but startled his attacker enough to throw him off guard. The man lay, cowering. His head of wild black hair, with a single streak of white, was buried in his arms.

Jack touched a hand to his own throat. He could still feel the cold blade. His body still trembled with fear.

"That was almost real.." he whispered to himself. "But it wasn't. And neither is he..whoever he is." He wandered away from the man a few feet.

"I'm having nightmares, in the middle of the BLOODY DAY!" he screamed to the sky. "AND I'M WIDE AWAKE!! AND BY GOD, ALL OF THE RUM _IS GONE_!" He turned to the cowering man, who was now staring up at him, saying nothing. "And _you_! Why are you still here? Who are you supposed to be, anyways?"

The man rose to his feet. Jack stumbled back, pointing his pistol at him.

The stranger raised one hand, in trues, and closed his blade.

"Rather pitiful weapon of choice, wouldn't you say?" Jack commented, lowering his own weapon.

The man's eyes, which seemed to never lose their darkness, stared at the blade in his hand. "These?" he said. He raised the blade high above his head, staring with a strange grin, as he began to sing.

"_These are my friends.  
See how they glisten.  
See this one shine...  
How he smiles in the light_.

_My frieeennnnnds."_

"Enough! With that dreadful noise!" Jack snapped. "What do you think this is, a church? Look around you, mate. This is the closest to hell we'll ever be, thanks to you and your singing! Stop that or people with think we're...unic, or something."

The man drew his shaving blade close to him, and tilted his head, curiously. "We?"

"Yes, _we_. You're just another very distorted, _very_ sleep deprived version of myself, are you not?"

The man gave a devilish half smirk towards his blade.

"And you're just a filthy unshaven version of myself, right? No, my good sir. You're clearly mistaken. You and I are two very different people."

He slipped his blade into a small pouch on his belt, and started towards Jack, who raised his pistol in defense, and stepped back. He stopped when the man scoffed at his timidness.

_Easy old Jack. _He thought, as he swallowed his fear. _This bloke isn't really all that scary, is he? You've met worse. Besides, he isn't even real._

"You're a pirate, yes?" The man asked.

"Now, What makes you say that?"

"Vermin," he muttered, ignoring Jack's sarcasm. "..._morals not worth what a pig could spit_.."

Jack gave a slight bow of his head, to what he considered a compliment. The man stared at him under his darkened brow. It was that stare. That _blasted_ stare that made his blood run colder than the slimed, waterlogged compartments of his own ship. Colder than if her were dead. This man was unnatural. Real or not, he was not among this world.

"You sail the sea," the man continues, his eyes unmoving. "Destroying, hurting, taking what isn't yours, and for what purpose? Because you think yourself a rebel? You're nothing more than a coward, sir. Not man enough to live among the world, so you take to the sea. You don't deserve to live. None of us derserve to live.."

"You've got it all wrong, mate." Jack answered. "Forget what you've read in your storybooks. I've seen things far more frightening than yourself. Things you can't even imagine. And I've survived it all, unharmed. It's called drinking rum, while driving a ship in a thunderstorm. And it's much more dangerous than you think, Mister.."

"Todd." the man said. "Sweeney Todd. And yourself?"

"If you want aboard my ship, you'll address me as Captain, and nothing else."


	2. The Whimsical Misfits

A/N: Thank you to those of you who are reading this fic, I hope you're enjoying it! Reviews are always welcome :)

Sweeney Todd gave a slight sneer.

"Who says's I _want _aboard your ship?" he asked.

"Well, if you havent noticed," Jack said. "'Tis the only way out of here. And it happens to belong to me."

The man glanced around. "I see no sea. Only dry ground. As for this ship..it's no more yours than it is mine. You probably stole it from someone.."

"Alright, then, Mr. Todd. If you dont want to be a part of my crew, then I'm afriad I have no use for you. One way or another, I am moving this ship, and rather than leaving you here for a certain long and painful death, why don't I just do you the favor of killing you now?"

Sweeney drew his blade, and Jack, his pistol. As Sweeney moved towards him, he wasted no time, and pulled the trigger. He stood, baffled, when the only sound he heard was a small click.

"Bugger." he muttered, and then shut his eyes, waiting to be killed.

"Hello, there!" called a cheery voiced from above. When Jack opened his eyes, he saw that Sweeney was staring up onto the deck of the ship. He looked up. He couldn't see the face of the new stranger who the unusual voice belonged to.

"Hey, I thought I heard singing. I was enjoying it, but then I heard some angry shouting. And I thought I was here all by myself! Isn't this wonderful? Well, come on up!" an arm gave a friendly beckon, turned and disapeared.

Jack and Sweeney exchanged a look. Jack's showed fear, and Sweeney's showed demented excitment.

"Right, then." Jack said, in a hushed voice. "What say you climb up there, you distract him with those little knife thingies, just long enough for me to come up the side and fire."

Sweeney pulled the pistol from Jack's hand and tossed it. "It's empty, you clod." he said as he stooped down and retrieved the sword Jack had dropped. Jack instinctivly flinched as he picked it up. Sweeney's dark eyes rolled as he thrust it into Jack's hands. "Here." he said, and gave him a slight shove towards the ship. "_You _go first, _Captain._ Because that way, if he kills you, I'll have only one vermin to take care of."

Jack stared up at the ship and took a deep breath. "Very well." He said. "If you'll be so kind to cover me, then, before I die."

Jack climbed up the rope, Sweeney fallowing close behind. Once aboard, both men looked around, anxiously, for their prey.

"Where is he?" Sweeney asked, as he eagerly gave his blade a quick sharpening on a lead cannon.

In the corner of his eye, Jack saw the figure from behind. He wore strange, brightly coloured attire, and his tall hat was bent, as he examined each part of the ship, carefully.

"There." Jack whispered to Sweeney, nodding towards the man.

They both prepared themselves, gripping there weapons intently.

"Ready?" said Jack.

"Ready."

"Stand fast!" he shouted and charged at the man, his sword held above his head.

"Uh, 'scuse me!" the stranger said as he spun around to face them. He tapped the ship with a long colourful walking stick. "What exactly is this ship made of?"

Jack stopped, baffled by the question. He glanced back at Sweeney, who looked just as confused.

"Erm...wood." he managed to answer.

"Wood, huh? I would have gone with glass candy. It's much more durable." he then reached out a purple gloved hand and swiped the edge of the rail with his finger, before bringing it to his tongue. He shuddered at the taste. "More delicious, too. This taste's like dust and sea barnicles."

"Who are you?" Sweeney Todd barked at the man. He hadn't let go of the knife he pointed at him, ready to cut out his throat.

"_Sea Barnicles_?" Jack repeated, insulted by the comment. "I'll have you know that I've made my crew wash this ship top to bottom, over and over, day in and day out!"

"You're crew, huh? And how much do you pay them?"

"Well.. whatever we find." Jack replied.

"Y'know, you could save yourself alot of time and money if you took a trip to Loompaland."

Jack stared. _This one has completley lost his marbles. When am I going to wake up from this nightmare?_

"There's no such place." Jack told him. "I've sailed these seas since the day I was born and -"

"Well, then you'd know all about it and what terrible place it is." The stranger interupted. "It's the island where I got my workers. I took many of the Oompa Loompas back to my factory. They work for cocoa beans, imagine that. They're so delightful and charming. Awful mischievious at times.."

"The last time I was on an island like that, I was nearly eaten alive by the natives." Jack informed him.

The man gave him an odd look. "Who would want to eat you? You're all dirty and you smell like a sweaty foot. The taste would be terrible."

Jack looked down, self consciously glancing at his dirt-caked finger nails.

"Well, _you're _one to talk!" he snapped. He turned to Sweeney. "The both of you..look like you haven't seen a day in the sun in your pathetic lives."

"Hey!" said the man, in his defense. "That's not true! Besides, my factory is always warm to keep the Oompa Loompa's happy."

"A factory, you say?" Sweeney asked, with interest. "What sort of factory would that be?"

"Why a chocolate one of course." The man said. He walked over towards Sweeney. "You there.."

"Todd. Sweeney Todd." he said.

"Ah," the man extended his purple glove "Willy Wonka, the amazing chocolateer. Nice to meet you. I shake you warmly by the hand."

Sweeney's eyes glared down at the hand, and then returned to Willy Wonka's face.

Willy's broad grin faded. "Y'know, maybe he's right." he said. "Maybe some sunshine would do you good. You look a little pale. And gloomy. Why is that? Is something wrong?"

"Something..." Sweeney began. He stared out at the endless miles of white ground.

"_there was a barber and his wife  
and she was beautiful  
a foolish barber and his wife  
she was his reason and his life  
and she was beautiful  
and she was virtuous  
and he was--"_

"WHAT did I say about singing?" Jack snapped, clutching his ears. Willy Wonka, on the other hand, seemed to be absolutely delighted.

"Wow." he said, grinning. "You're really good. You should come work at my factory. The Oompa Loompa's would just adore you."

"That's it!" Jack cried. "I have had it with this weirdness. I don't know who you are, or why you're here but I want both of you off my ship now, or so help me I'll--"

"Hey!" Willy was pointing up, at the crow's nest. "There's someone up there! Is he a part of your crew?"

Jack squinted up, unable to recognize the person in the crow's nest. "By God, I hope so." he muttered. "Because I'd rather be talking to myself than to you lunatics."

"You there!" he called to the person. "I suggest you come down here and join the rest of us before I come up there and toss you overboard!"

All three of them watched as something dropped down from the mast, and caught itself on a sail's rope. It swung back and forth. They could see only bits and pieces of the person through the rips and tears of the black sails. It dropped onto the deck with a thud.

"Ouch...ouch...ouch..." the person mumbled. Willy was the first to rush to his aid.

"My goodness! Are you alright?" he helped the young man to his feet. "Ha-ha! look, he's okay!" he said to his companions. Then he stood back, alarmed, as he examined him. "Heyy.." he said. "Why are you dressed like me?"

The young man did, in fact have on a tall hat much like Willy Wonka's, along with a suit jacket, and a walking stick. He stared back at Willy for a moment before he suddenly took his colourful walking stick and exchanged it for his own.

"What the- that's mine! Give it-- hey! Cut it out!"

The man had now taken Willy's top hat, taken his off, and put it on Willy's head. He took the new hat, and put it on his head. he spent several seconds skillfully swapping their hats and walking sticks.

"Stop that! It's not funny! Make him stop! Someone!" Willy called.

Jack raised his sword and pointed it at the young man, who's hands raised in defense. "Who are you?"

"Um...I-I'm Sam." he said, with a small, nervous smile. "And you are?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

The man raised a finger and then withdrew a small notebook from his pocket. "Jack with two O's?"

"What?" Jack said, dumbfounded. "No, there is no 'O' in Jack, mate."

"Oh." he said. He looked at Sweeney. "And you?"

"Sweeney Todd. Three 'E's, two 'D's, no 'O's"

"This is outrageous!" Willy exclaimed. "Why is some strange young man who looks just like me here all of a sudden? This is so confusing and pointless!"

"Welcome to my world, mate." Jack said in frustration. "I liked my old crew much better. They were far better looking than you freaks."

**Thats all for now! I'm not sure if I will add more characters or just continue with the story. If there is a character you'd like to make an appearance, make a request in the reviews and I will try to work them in. Thanks for reading! :)**


	3. The Constable

**A/N I have decided to add Ichobad Crane, thanks for the suggestion flygon Pirate. although I did think about adding Johnny Depp himself, I dont think the site would allow it, since he's a real person. It would be fun though!**

"HEEEEEEEEELLLLP!!" Came a sudden peircing scream from the side of the ship. everyone's heads turned in it's direction. Jack exhaled, irritabley.

"Bloody fantastic...another one."

"I think somebody is in trouble." Sam suggested.

"Please! Is anyone there? HEEELP!"

The four of them ran to the side, peering over the edge at a man who was desperatley grasping the barrel of one of the Pearl's cannon's as the rest of his body dangled dangerously, several feet from the ground.

"Oh, Thank heavens! Please! I've never climbed up a ship before, but I thought maybe someone-- Oh! I'm slipping!"

Jack turned to Sam. "Boy, make yourself useful and light the cannon."

Sam nodded and turned to go off and light it, but Willy stuck his walking stick out to stop him. "Don't. Look at the poor guy."

The fingers on his left hand gradually lost their grip and slipped off of the cannon.

"Ahhh!" the man cried. He stared up at them. Like the others, Jack noticed, he had his face, but a much different, (and extremely strange, in Jack's opinion) wardrobe and hairstyle. "PLEASE!" he begged. "I can't hold on! Oh no..."

The fingers of his right hand trembled threateningly as he dug and clawed into the gunport for dear life. Sam was the first one to stretch out his walking stick. "Here! Grab on!" he called. The man reached with his left hand, but even the stick wasn't long enough for him to grab.

"I can't!"

That was when Sam handed his stick to Willy and climbed overboard.

"Sam, what are you doing? You'll be killed!" Willy protested.

"Maybe that won't be such a bad thing." Jack muttered to himself.

"Ha-ha!" Willy replied, grinning at Jack's comment.

Sam cautiously climbed down towards the dangling man and extended his hand to him.

"Wow, he's really good at that, huh?" Willy commented.

"If he falls they'll both splatter into mush...perfect for meat pies." Sweeney remarked, with a sneer. Willy and Jack exchanged a look and both stepped away from him, nervously.

The man's shaking hand reached up and grasped Sam's, holding on for dear life as he pulled him up to safety.

"Oh.. My Goodness, thank you so kindly, dear boy." He said, as he climbed aboard the ship. He took a moment to dust himself off. When he looked up and saw Jack, he gasped, startled by his appearance. When he turned away, and saw Sweeney, he clutched his chest and gasped even louder, and when he turned again, he saw Willy's smiling face. He staggered back, his eyes rolled back, and he hit the floor like a sack of bricks.

The rest of them stood around, staring down at the unconcious man.

"You killed him!" Sam said to Willy.

"Did not!" he said, and then he very slowley, very cautiously jabbed at him with his walking stick. He looked relieved when the man didn't move.

"Hold on, mate." Jack said. "He's still breathing."

Sweeney took out his knife and opened the blade with the flick of his wrist. He knelt down next to the body. "No worries, I'll finish him off."

"Don't!" Sam cried, and shoved Sweeney away. "I want to keep him!"

"Keep him?" Jack repeated.

"Well, I saved him, didn't I?"

Jack shook his head. "You're all insane." He mumbled. "I'm surrounded by mad men."

Sam shook the man, lightly, and then harder. He stirred, slowley opening his eyes. He looked at Sam, alarmed.

"You're...you...why do you look like me?"

Sam furrowed his brow. "I didn't know I did." He turned to the others. "Do I?"

The man looked up at the faces which stared at him. "You all do! Only much more frightning... What's going on? Where am I?"

"That's what I'd like to know." Jack told him. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Detective Ichabod Crane... I was assigned to go to to Sleepy Hallow on an investigation case...is that where I am now?"

"No, you're on the Black Pearl, mate." Jack informed him.

"The Black Pearl... I've never heard of it. Surely, I would remember such an odd title for a ship...it sounds almost like..." His eyes grew wide with sudden realisation, and his complexion turned paler. "This...this is a p-p-pirate ship? Good lord! You're a pirate, arent you?"

Jack bowed his head, with pride.

Ichabod looked as though he might black out again for a moment, but he managed to hold himself together and scrambled to his feet. "And these gentlemen here?"

"Erm...well, unless I'm mistaken, they're hallucinations. As are you, mate. Too much rum and sun, it gets to one's head, if you know what I mean."

"I am? But this all seems like a dream...perhaps thats what it is. Quick! someone wake me up!"

With that, Jack struck his face hard with the back of his hand. Ichabod stood stunned for a second or two.

He touched his hand to his cheek. "Ow! Why did you strike me?"

Jack shrugged. "Girl's do it to me all the time. Even when I don't deserve it. You sir, deserved a good smack."

"This is a nightmare!" Ichabod cried. "When does it end? Where is this ship going? I need to get to Sleepy Hallow!"

"This is my ship, mate. It goes where I go."

"I thought it was going to London." Sweeney said.

"London?" Willy interupted. "Why that's absurd. I thought this was the over-sea's delivery service for the Swedish candy I ordered.. I was almost certain you were all UPS guys at first."

Jack rolled his eyes at them. He turned to Sam. "What about you?"

Sam shrugged, giving him a blank look. "I just thought it would be fun to climb up here. I've never been on a ship before."

"You're all idiotic." Jack informed them. "Why any of you bare ressembulance to myself is beyond me. Not a single one of you knows the first thing about sailing. As the Captain of the Black Pearl, I say which direction she sails at all times, while the crew - that's you, quite unfortunately - keep look out, man the artilery, man the sails, swab the deck, keep up with repairs, and all that fun stuff. Now, one of you is going to be my first mate. Mr. Todd, sir. You seem to have a keen swordsmanship, with those small knifes of yours. Not to worry, we'll size you up with a more effiecent one. Now, as first mate, your job is to alert the Captain, that's me.. of everything that's going on. And in the unfortunate event that something should happen to me, you will assume all duties. Savvy? good. Now, then.. let's get to work."

He started to walk towards the front of the ship, not noticing his 'crew' staying put. He chose the thickest rope he could find and turned to them.

"Well, what are you waiting for? We've got to get this old girl back to sea! She'll dry up out here. You there, Mr. Crane. Secure this rope to the bowsprit."

Ichabod swallowed hard. He glanced at the others for help, only to find clueless shrugs. "I'm sorry, the _which_?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "The _bowsprit_! this long thing that sticks out of the front of the ship! Blood hell! You'd think I'd be able to hallucinate someone of use to me!" He heaved a huge sigh of annoyance, turning his back to them, wishing he could make them disapear as easily as they had appeared. _Look's like you're on your own, Captain._ he thought, miserably.

**Sorry for the wait...thank you to those of you reading this fic and to those who have reviewed, and hope you keep reading!**


	4. Try the Poet

**A/N: I debated adding anymore characters...but I decided to add one more, because he is my favorite Johnny Depp character, and i couldn't leave him out. ;) thank you once again to everyone reading and reviewing! I hope this chapter doesnt suck..**

Jack looked at the men, mystified. "This is bizarre." He said "This is ridiculous...this makes no sense at all! Look at you all...you're nothing more than pitiful, useless, less-hansome, less-charming versions of myself." He turned around and shouted into the sky. "Is this suposed to be a joke!? Is this amusing to you?!"

Ichabod was cowering behind Sam, frightened by the angry shouting. "To whom is he speaking?" he asked. Sam gave a shrug, and turned to the others for an answer.

"He's lost it." Sweeney said.

They watched as Jack sat down on the deck and began laughing hysterically at nothing in particular. He stopped, abruptly. "Focus.." he muttered. "Focus, old Jack...you need to figure all this out. I need...I need..." he stood up and kicked over a barrall. Empty glass rum bottles spilled over the deck. He desperatly rummaged through them, dumping any small drops he could salvage into his mouth until he became frusterated. He chucked one of the bottles over his shoulder.

"Bugger!" he shouted. "All of my secret stashes...gone. I've not been here 3 days...Why is the rum _always _gone?"

Ichabod was clutching Willy's sleeve in fear of what might happen. Willy rolled his eyes, and jerked his arm away. "Scaredy-cat. It's only a pirate." He turned to Jack. "Y'know, maybe if you didn't drink so much rum you wouldn't be prone to frequent hallucinations and anxiety."

"Who asked you!?" Jack bellowed. He stormed over to Willy, his brown eyes glaring heatedly into his. "Move!" he said, and shoved him aside. Jack looked down where Willy had been standing. There was a small 'X' carved into the wooden plank of the deck. Jack knelt down and lifted it. he reached him his arm and dug around the hole. He pulled up several empty bottles. Then his angry expression changed when he felt one that was heavy with liquid. He lifted it.

"Thank God!" he said. He opened the bottle and drank the rum greedily. "Nothing has ever tasted so sweet." He said, rising to his feet. He quickly gulped the contents of what appeared to be a large bottle until it was nearly empty. He stopped only to breath, and staggered backwards. "Gentlemen," he slurred. "You shall remember this always as the day that you _almost _mocked Captain Jack Spa-RROW!!"

His last word was shouted as he tumbled over the edge of the ship. He fell for what seemed like a long time and finally his the ground with seering pain throughout his entire body. Everything went black.

...

He didn't recall how long it was before he heard a sound which slowly brought him back to awarness of what had happened. He opened his eyes and saw blinding light. "Am I...dead?" He felt as though he had broken every bone in his body, although was fortunate enough that he hadn't. The next thing he saw was a man peering down at him. A man who, unsurprisingly, looked almost identical to himself. Jack shut his eyes again. "Should have known I would be unfortunate enough to survive that fall and bare yet another nightmare..thought for a moment it had all been a dream." he mumbled.

"Are you alright?" a voice asked. "I saw that fall..wow. You're lucky to be alive. Oh my God...would you look at this ship? It's so ancient.."

"Ancient?" Jack said. He sat straight up, forgetting his pain untill it his him like a great wave. "Ahhh!--" he clutched his back, gritting his teeth. "I've only had her for a decade or so. She's a classic, now."

The man frowned at him. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Why are _you _dressed like _that_?" Jack retorted.

The man was dressed in a tattered robe. His blonde hair was wildly tangled and he had on round spectacles. He looked down at himself.

"This is how I always dress. Unless of course, I'm at a book-signing or something like that." He stopped, and eyed Jack strangley.

"What?" Jack demanded.

"Wow...we look--"

"Freakishly alike, I know. Although I stick to my guns when I say that I am far better-looking than yourself."

The man stood, looking puzzled. "But..why?"

"I don't know, mate. Grow out the hair and beard a bit more, get yourself a Carribean tan, smear some coal around the eyes..it will really make them really stand out and look stunning.. You'll see. You'll be fighting off women with a stick."

"No, no..I mean, why do you look like me? Who are you?"

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Who are _you?"_

"My name is Mort Rainey. Wait...you're Captain _who_? you mean..you actually think you're a pirate? Or are you just some sort of corpral mascot for rum?"

"I know that I'm a pirate, mate. It doesn't take much."

Mort shook his head, sighing deeply. "God, I can't deal with this right now...Okay, look. I can give you a ride into town and get you some help. There's a homeless shelter in town and people who can help you, you know..mentally."

"My home is the sea, mate."

"I realise that but you need to come to terms with the fact that...who are these guys?"

Jack carefully turned around to see what Mort was looking at. "Ah! you think I'm mentally unstable? Wait until you meet these characters. Watch out for the one with the skunk on his head.." he said in a whisper. "I think he's a cannibal."

"Wow!" Willy excitedly said. "Another one! Welcome aboard! Well...we're not exactly on the ship right now, but you know what I mean."

"I think I must have fallen asleep." Mort said. "This is a really weird dream. I should write it down..it could be a top seller. Who's got a pen and paper?"

Sam reached into his pocket and handed him his notebook and pen. Mort flipped it open.

"Wow.." he said, staring at Sam's large uneven handwriting. "You should really try using a spell check."

Sam shrugged. "I'm not the best speller." He said, embarassed.

Mort began furiously jotting everything down.

"What is he doing?" Ichabod asked.

"It appears he's a poet." Sweeney answered.

"_The trouble with poet is how do you know it's deceased.. _!"

try the priest.

Oh but always arrived overdone. I'll come again when you have PIRATE on the menu

Jack rolled his eyes at Sweeney's singing. "You sir, are deranged."

Mort looked up. "Why do you all have British accents? Is it some sort of a trend in this place? ..Uh, what is this place, anyways?"

They all looked down at Jack, who was still propped up on his elbows. "Davy Jone's locker. Edge of the earth, hellish sort of thing that happens to you when you mess about with curses and what not. Now, someone help me up."

Willy offered the handle of his walking stick to Jack and yanked him to his feet.

"Ahh! Not so fast!...I've fallen off this old girl many a times, but never a time when there was no water below her."

He stood hunched over in pain until he straightened himself, his joints made a loud crack. "AH! much better."

"Okay...so, you're all pirates?" Mort asked, motioning with the end of Sam's pen. "I've never written a pirate story before."

"We're not _all _pirates." Jack said. "_I'm _a pirate." He pointed his finger at the others. "And he's a crack-pot who owns a chocolate factory, he's a derranged, singing, cannibalistic demon of some sort, he's a cowardly Constable, and he's...well, he's just a strange little man who likes climbing things."

Mort stood, frowning at his piece of paper. "Wait...what? This is one of the strangest dreams I've ever had..."

"It's no dream, mate." Jack informed him.

"Then why are you all..." Mort Rainey's face turned deathly white. "Oh, I see.. this is like Shooter all over again. You're all characters I've made up at some point. Next you'll all be telling me that I should change my stories and kill all my friends and family? I like that you all look like me too, that's a nice touch."

"Now, no, there's no reason to panic." Ichabod said.

"Shut up!" Mort cried, clutching the sides of his head. "Leave me alone!! Just leave me alone!"

"Leave me alone!!Just leave me alone!" Jack mimicked Mort's voice and body language perfectly. "Don't you think I've tried that already? Shouting at them won't deny them of their presence, mate. So might I suggest you stop while your ahead and accept that you are but morbid figment of my imagination. It'll make this much easier for me. Savvy?"

"Well..."Mort began, appearing dumbfounded. "if _we're _the ones that don't exist...then, what does that make you?"

"That makes me Captain, obviously." Jack replied.

"But...then, what are we suppose to do? I mean.."

"Well, for starters, you can help me move me ship back to sea."

Mort looked over his shoulder at the ship. "That thing? There's no way all of us can move that."

"You, sir, need to gain a bit of confidence. Have faith in yourself."

Jack noticed Ichabod looking curiously at a white rock on the ground.

"This rock," Ichabod said. "I seem to remember it being over there. Did anybody tamper with it?"

"It's the heat, mate. It's going to you're head." Jack explained.

"No, he's right." Mort agreed. "It _was_ over there. Way over there."

Jack stared curiously at the perfectly round rock. He walked over to it, and cautiously picked it up. "You're insane. both of you. It hasn't moved. It's just an ordinary rock...I think." He rubbed it with the palm of his hands, brought it to his mouth, and tasted it. He threw it several yards away, just to be certain.

"It's only a rock. Now come along gents, there's work to be done. This will take more effort and patience, I'm sure, than any of us have, but due to the circumstances, I believe we have no other choice."

He began walking to the front of his ship, the others started to fallow when Ichabod gave a sudden frightened gasp and leapt into Mort's arms. Jack turned around. The rock was behind him. It had to have been the same rock, for it was the only one in sight.

"It moved, I saw it!" Ichabod insisted.

"Get down!" Mort grunted. "You're too...heavy!" he set him down.

"Mr. Crane," Jack said. "'Tis only a rock. There is no logical reason why a rock would be fallowing you. You need to get a grip on yourself, mate."

"I swear it on my mother's grave! The rock moved! You threw it over there and now it's back! Observe.."

His shaking hand reached down slowly, and picked the rock up. He flung it far from the ship. All six of them stood, watching in silence. The rock cracked into fragments which emerged as what appeared to be crab legs. The rock was now alive, and crawling towards them. That was when they all noticed at once, that there were far more than just one rock around the ship. There were probably hundreds. Each of them began to turn into live crabs before their eyes. Ichabod hit the ground, unconscious.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Mort asked.

"Trust me, he's fine, mate." Jack told him. "It's yourself you ought to be worried about.."


	5. Rescued at Last

****

**A/N: I just realised that this story totally gives away the ending of Secret Window..if you haven't seen it yet, and are wanting to at some point, I'm sooo sorry. I didnt mean to wreck it for you! I would still recomend the movie, because it's very good and Johnny is extremly cute in that movie ;)**

The mysterious rock creatures began to swarm towards them and the Pearl, very rapidly.

"Quick! Everyone board the ship!" Jack commanded.

"But what about Ichabod?" Sam asked.

"He's yours, isn't he?" Jack replied. "Take him with you. Hurry! We mustn't any waste time!"

He looked up at the ship and shouted, "Throw down the rope ladder!"

"Uh, Captain?" Mort said. "We're all down here."

Jack turned, facing him. "I'm aware of that, Mr. Rainey. Don't think I'm not, and do _not _question your commanding officer, or you will be left behind to suffer a gruesome death and have your corpse devoured by flesh eating rocks."

"Flesh eating?" Sweeney mused with his brief notorious sneer. "Are you sure?"

"Did you not hear what I just said to Mr.Rainey, Mr.Todd? Question my authority again and you will all be left behind!"

"Captain?" Sam said, suddenly.

"That does it!" shouted Jack. "None of you are welcome aboard my ship!"

"Way to go, Sam." Willy muttered.

"Gentlemen, as much as I have not enjoyed you're company, I bid you all a good day." with that, Jack turned to where the Pearl had sat and was startled to see that it was no longer there. He spun around.

"What have you done to my vessel?" He demanded, adressing Sam.

"I didn't do anything." he insisted.

"Then WHERE IS IT!?"

Sam raised his arm and pointed. Jack saw that the ship moving away, by means of the rock-crabs, which had unified to carry it on top of themselves. He raced after it on foot. All of the others fallowed, except for Ichabod and Sam, who crouched down and began shaking him.

"Mr.Crane! Mr.Crane! Wake up! we've gotta go!"

After a moment, Ichabod stirred. "Oh! It's you again! So it wasn't a dream?"

"Come on," said Sam. "We've gotta catch the boat."

He pulled him to his feet and they chased after the ship.

...

The pirates crawled onto the beach, coughing and choking on salt water, yet gratious to be on land once again. Mr.Gibbs looked around in horror.

"This truely is a God forsaken place." He stated.

Elizabeth Swann stood near by, scanning the layers of vacant beach before her. "I don't see him. I don't see anyone." She said, hopelessly.

Captain Barbossa arose, dripping with the sea. "He's here." he assured her. "Davy Jones never once gave up that what he took."

"And does it matter? We're trapped here by you're doing." Will Turner accused. "You're no different than Jack."

It was then that Tia Dalma noticed several rocks, in the form of crabs, scuttling along the beach. She picked one up and touched it's shell. She smiled.

"Witty Jack," she said. "Is closer den you tink."

That was when they saw, low and behold, the sails of the Black Pearl as it crashed over the white sand until it touched the sea. It's home which it had long since seen. They all watched in silent awe.

Ragetti pointed. "Boat." was all he could say.

Jack was standing on a mast. He jumped down and trudged out of the water.

"Slap me face and hand me to me mamma--It's Jack!" Gibbs called, and he and the crew ran to greet him.

Nobody seemed to notice, however, that instead of his usual staggering walk, he stopped and became concerned with the water in his boots.

"Captain!" Gibbs called. "I knew you'd be here! It's so good to see you!" He came running towards him, when Jack gave an unsuspecting gasp and froze in his tracks.

"...And, you are?" he said.

Mr.Gibbs looked dumbfounded. "Captain, it's me, sir. Mr. Gibbs. Don't you remember?"

"No." he said. "Can't say that I do."

Captain Barbossa approached him. "Well, you can't tell me you don't remember me, Jack Sparrow. You shot me."

"No I didn't." Jack argued. "Never fired a gun in my life."

"What's wrong with him?" Will asked. "Why is speaking in that strange voice?"

"What's wrong with the way I talk?" Jack questioned. "You're the one talking funny..Ah! Now here's a familar face!"

He bent down to adress Marty, the smallest member of the crew.

"Hey there, little fella! Why aren't you back at the factory with all the other Oompa Loompas? I don't give vacation pay, you know."

Marty gave him an odd look. "What did he just call me?"

"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked. "What's wrong with Jack?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. What's wrong with _you_? You do look kind of funny. All dressed up in that weird armor.. I wonder if there are any exotic flavors here in this place. Other than sand or...sand. People generally don't like the taste of sand."

"What are you talking about? Jack, it's us! We've come to rescue you!" she told him.

"Rescue me..whatever for? I'm only here on business."

"Jack, stop it!" She grasped him by the shoulders and gave him a hard shake. His cheerful expression and voice suddenly evaporated, and changed. He became seemingly nervous.

"I beg you're pardon, madame. Have I done something to upset you? If so, I am terribley sorry." He voice had become something like his natural one, only lacking a certain gruff tone, and he sounded much like a gentlemen. A timid smirk appeared on his lips, as his hands trembled at his sides. Elizabeth backed away, in fear and confusion.

"Perhaps him not our witty Captain after all." Tia said.

"That's impossible." Will said. "Who else could he be?"

Tia walked up to Jack, studying him carefully. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am afraid I'm only a stranger, madame." came a nervous reply.

"Just as I suspected." Tia whispered.

"What? What is it?" Gibbs anxiously asked.

"There is more den one spirit within him. Somehow, dey have becomed trapped."

"What do you mean?" Barbossa ask. "Does this mean that Jack..."

"Him still in there, somewhere. Though it may be too late for him to come back."

"Pardon me, madame," Jack interupted. "But are you a witch of some sort?"

"No, I am not a witch." Tia informed him.

"Well, perhaps that is only half true, Miss, for you have bewitched me."

Tia grinned. "I like dis one. Him very charming."

Will rolled his eyes. "What a daft pick-up line." he muttered.

"Pity it isn't him." Barbossa said. "Was hoping to get me revenge somehow."

Something Barbossa said triggered a completly different personality. Jack's eyes became a dark, hallow scowl. He pulled his sword and pointed it at Barbossa's chin.

"ALRIGHT! you, sir! How about a shave?"This voice was almost identical to Jack's, only angrier than anything they'd ever heard. "Come and visit your friend Sweeney." he spun around, and adressed Pintel who staggered back in fear.

"YOU, sir..too, sir! Welcome to the grave! _I will have vengance...I will have salvation.."_

Ragetti leaned over to Pintel. "I didn't know Capatain could sing, did you?"

_"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit_

_and the vermin of the world enhabit it... but not_

_for loooong."_ He sang on.

Pintel and Ragetti applauded loudly.

Barbossa drew his gun and pointed it at Jack, who's back was turned to him. Elizabeth stopped him, clutching the gun and shoving it away.

"No!" she cried. "We still need him."

"What good is he to us? 'Tis not even himself!" Barbossa claimed.

"Maybe he's only drunk." Will suggested.

"I have seen the Captain drunk many a times, Mister Turner." said Gibbs. "Never before have I heard him sing like that."

Elizabeth stood before Jack, staring into his eyes. "Jack...are you in there? Can you hear me?"

"Of course I can." came a bitter, American accent. "I'm not deaf. How can I assist you?"

"You're not Jack.." she said.

Jack smirked. "What makes you say that? I don't know who I am anymore. I like that your all here to rescue me. Seems like a happy ending for everyone. See, that's the only thing that matters. The ending. It's the most important part of the story. I'd say that this one is very good."

Elizabeth turned to Tia, in desperation. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Good Lord, how many of them are there?" Will asked.

As they spoke, Jack seemed to be having some difficulty. He touched his hand to his forehead.

"Stop it.." he muttered. "I don't have to tell them."

"Tell who?" Elizabeth asked him.

"I'm going to get a knife, and cut you out of me...Shut up! SHUT UP!!"

"It's Jack." Will realised. "He's talking to him from inside." He moved Jack's arm from his face.

"Jack, please! Come back to us. We need you."

Jack twisted himself around, pulling Will's arm around his neck. He made fake gagging noises. Will rolled his eyes, yanking his arm away.

"This is hopeless." He said.

Jack then removed his hat. He went to put it back on, but in a quick, almost undetected motion, flipped it into the air. He did this several times, creating the illusion that his hat was jumping on its own. It landed a few feet down the beach. He walked towards it and reached down. The hat was tossed beyond his reach each time, until he leapt on top of it. Pintell and Ragetti roared with laughter, and applauded his little act.

"He's funny." Ragetti said. "I like this one."

_"He_ oughta be our Captain." Pintell added.

"Don't encourage him, you idiots." Captain Barbossa warned them.

"We almost had him." Will said. "Is there no way to bring him back?"

"If we bring him back, what will happen to the others?" Elizabeth wondered.

"I assume they'll go away. Won't they?" Will turned to Tia Dalma.

"Dat is for dem to decide." she replied.

They watched, as Jack spun his hat on his finger tip over and over again until Mr.Gibbs suddenly beamed with an epiphany.

"Eureka!" he said, and began trudging towards the water. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Think of what?" Elizabeth called after him.

Gibbs wandered around the shoreline, searching among the ruins of their ship until he found what he was looking for. He brought a round shaped bottle over to Jack. He shook it in front of him.

"What's this, Jack? Remember this?"

Jack gave a gasp and snatched it out of his hand. He held it up and inspected it, in a very Jack-like manner, before ripping the cork out with his teeth and taking a long drink.

"Thank you for that Mr.Gibbs." He said, when he was done. "I'd almost forgotten what this tasted like. Believe you me, there is none aboard my ship at the moment."

He quickly finished the bottle. "That being said," he slurred. "There has been a serious lack of dicipline aboard my vessel... WHY is that, Mr.Gibbs?"

Gibbs stood, baffled for a moment. "Sir..you're in Davy Jone's Locker."

Jack frowned, teetering drunkenly. "I know that. I know where I am. Don't think I don't!"

Gibbs smiled and patted him on the back. "Good to have you back, Captain. Thought we might have lost you."

"Good job, Mr.Gibbs." Will muttered. "Now he's drunk."

"Aye, not to worry Mister Turner." Gibbs said. Then he leaned over and lowered his voice. "Tis only rootbeer I gave him. He doesn't know the difference."

"Isn't it a pity, though?" Barbossa said. "I quite liked some of his other selves. Shame we can't bring them with us."

**A/N: Hello again! This chapter is a bit different than the lasts..I hope its not too confusing, if it is, Google Disosiative (sp?) Identidy Disorder, (DID) which is what Jack has in my story(it's also what Mort Rainey has in Secret Window). And I have been getting several requests for more characters..I'm still uncertain if I am going to add anymore. There are alot of characters I'm not all that familar with, soo we'll see what happens ;) Thank you again for reading and please review!**


	6. What happens in DJL stays in DJL

Jack leaned over the railing and breathed in his beloved sea air. He felt so releived to be on the open sea with his crew and another adventure at his hands. He tried to let go of the memory of those strange versions of himself he'd encountered and leave it all behind in Davy Jone's Locker. Eventually, even he would forget. It had all been in his head. He was dead at the time. Now, he was alive.

"Trim that sail!" Jack raised his head as he heard Captain Barbossa hollar, making his way down the deck. He was inspecting the condition of the ship, barking orders at the crew members. Barking orders at _Jack's _crew members. On _Jack's _ship.

"That filthy old bugger." Jack muttered. He began to fallow Barbossa, barking his own orders. Telling the crew to do the opposite of whatever Barbossa told them, until they all stopped what they were doing, confused as to who to listen to. Captain Barbossa turned around.

"What, _are _you doing?" He demanded.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked.

"No, what _are _you doing?"

"No, what are _you_ doing?..Captain gives orders on the ship."

"Captain _is _giving orders!"

Jack glared, furiously. "My ship! Makes me Captain!"

"They be _my _charts!" Barbossa thundered back.

"That makes you..._chartsman._"

That was when Pintel appeared and screamed at both of them. "**STOW IT!!** **THE BOTH OF YOU!! THAT'S AN ORDER!! UNDERSTAND?!"**

Jack and Barbossa became wide-eyed, awaiting an explaination.

"Sorry.." he said, cracking a sheepish grin. "With the Captain issue in doubt...Just thought I'd throw in my name...sorry."

Barbossa turned to Jack. "This ship will not be manned by someone mentally instable! I won't allow it!"

"Neither will I! That's why I'm Captain!" Jack said, oblivious to what Barbossa really meant.

"You mean to tell me," Barbossa said, "that the little episode you had back in the Locker was perfectly normal?"

"What episode?" Jack said, becoming a bit nervous. Perhaps Barbossa knew about his strange hallucinations..but how was that possible? He hadn't been there. "Nothing out of the ordinary happened, despite a few things...but I'm fine now! Stable enough to run this ship, or any ship out there! But it just so happens that this one is mine."

"Oh, really? We shall see about that!" Barbossa said. He turned to the crew and ressumed his business giving orders.

Jack was about to put a stop to it, when someone appeared next to him.

"I thought this was your ship?" a voice asked.

Jack jumped, clutching his hand to his chest. He saw that it was Mort Rainey. He pointed, baffled by his sudden appearance. "You! I thought--How did you..Who let this man aboard my ship??"

Some crew members stopped and stared at him.

"Which man?" someone asked.

"This one! Can't you see him? He looks just like me, only _I'm_ prettier."

"You mean Will Turner?" Someone else asked. "He helped rescue you."

"It's no use, Jack." Mort said. "Nobody understands you. They can't see me."

"I realise that.." Jack hissed, to both Mort and his crew, before he walked off to a more secluded area of the ship.

"By now you must be in alot of denial..I know I was when the voices started. But I've come to learn that there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

Jack spun around towards Mort, who had either fallowed him, or appeared behind him out of thin air.

"GO AWAY!!" he screamed.

Mort smirked. "I know..annoying isn't it?"

"Why have you come here? You were suposed to remain in Davy Jone's Locker. You're not real!"

"But Jack.." Sam suddenly climbed down a net to join them. "I thought you wanted us on your crew.."

"Stay out of this!" he barked.

Elizabeth, who had come up onto the upper deck to get supplies, was caught off gaurd.

"Stay out of what?" she asked.

"Well...you know what I mean. This is man's work. Why don't you go off and cook us something to eat?"

"That was kind of rude." Sam said. "She wants to help you."

"Be quiet!!"

Elizabeth appeared even more mystified. "Jack...I didn't say anything."

"Exactly!" Jack said. "_Don't_ say anything! Just go!"

Elizabeth looked concerned, but after a moment, she left. Jack heaved a sigh of relief and frusteration. He dissapeared down into the lower cabins to try and have a moment to himself and understand what was happening.

It was there he saw a figure sloshing through the ankle-high water which flooded his lower decks.

"Ah, Mr.Crane. I wondered what had become of you." He said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Good evening, Jack." Ichabod replied. "I'm only down here because I'm feeling a bit sea-sick. I hope this trip is over, soon."

"Trust me, mate. It won't be..."

"Ughh." Came another voice in the distance. "This place is disgustingly unsanitary. Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't the water be beneath the ship, not in it?"

"Right you are, Mr. Wonka." Jack agreed. "Trouble is people keep blowing holes in my ship."

"Jack!" Someone shouted from behind. Jack leapt as though he's been given an electric shock.

"Don't do that to me!" He shouted at Sweeney. "You can't just sneak up on a man like that.. And why are you here in the first place?"

"We're here, because you need us." Sweeney replied.

"I don't need you." Jack sneered. "I don't need anybody. I'm Captain of the Black Pearl. It takes only one man to run a ship."

"That man up there, ordering everyone out..who is he?"

Jack pointed up to his upper deck. "Hectar? He's just an old crack-pot...I mean, he thinks _he's_ Captain of the ship. Fancy that, eh? _This _ship."

"And you're letting him believe this, why?" Sweeney questioned.

Jack swallowed back the nervous feeling he suddenly got from this conversation. Real or not, Sweeney Todd still gave him the shivers. "What are you talking about?"

Sweeney moved closer, speaking into his ear.

"It takes only one man to run a ship, isn't that right, Jack? So what are you going to do?"

Jack's eyebeows raised. His upper lip curled with interest as he came to realise just what Sweeney meant.

"You mean...you want me to _kill _Captain Barbossa?"

"You said it. Not I." Sweeney said.

"If I may," Ichabod interupted, he stood at Jack's other side. "Jack, you must think rationally. This is murder we're talking. A pirate, you may be, but you're no murderer. I've seen all to well what becomes of men who take the stands. Trust me, it isn't pretty."

"He's right you know," Willy agreed. "Besides...aren't you a part of some Pirate Lord society? Word on the ship is, they're throwing a big party. Wouldn't Hectar be sad if he couldn't attend?"

"That's right." Ichabod nodded. "Without him, how will the 9 Pirate Brotheren honor the code? How will they stop this Lord Beckett fellow from putting an end to all piracy?"

"It doesn't really concern you, Mr. Crane." Jack pointed out.

"It concerns all of us." Sweeney said. "We're all in this together now. Whether you're willing to admit it or not."

Jack raised his hands, his fingers curled in stress. "Please, stop." He said.

"Jack, do the right thing." Ichabod went on. "It's the Pirate Code...do you really think the crew will consider a man who breaks it their Captain?"

"Survival of the fittest." Sweeney said. "That's the true pirate code. You've killed Barbossa once already."

Jack stepped back and looked at them. "And what pray tell do any of you know about piracy or for that matter, what's for my own good? Only I have any say over that."

There was a breif silence. Sweeney narrowed his eyes at him. He took out his knife, and opened it.

"I know what's best for you, Jack. What's best for all of us. And if you won't make the right decision, I will."

Jack scoffed. "How do you propose to do that? Nobody on board is aware of your existance, other than myself. And even I question it."

Sweeney touched the blade to his fingertip, sneering. "Don't be so sure. How do you think you came to meet your rescuers?"

Jack pondered in silence. It was true that he had no memory of it. He remembered the ship, as it began to move. He remembered chasing after it, and getting on it, but there was a small time frame between then and the moment he was on the beach before the entire crew that was a fog. It was like he breifly drifted off, and when he came to, there they were. Like he wasn't really there during that time.

Willy draped his arm around him. "No worries, Captain. We're on your side."

"How do you know he's on yours?" Sweeney questioned.

"Of course he is. Don't be silly. Jack doesn't want to kill Captain Barber-rosa...do you?"

Jack was silent for a long time. "Do I?" He repeated. He shoved Willy's arm away, and walked up the stairs to the upper deck. Sweeney watched him with a coy smirk.

**A/N: Review, Please! :)**


	7. Barbossa's Close call

**A/N: So many people asked for me to add this character that I couldnt resist ;) Hope you like, please leave reviews **

Jack's hand dropped from his bunk, releasing the empty glass bottle it had been gripping so tightly, without him knowing. But that was not the only thing he was unaware of, as he slept.

Sweeney Todd stood over him, his knife in hand. Mort Rainey, next to him.

"He didn't kill Barbossa." Sweeney said. "I was sure he would have."

Mort snickered. "You see, that's the beauty of all this. You, being one of his 'insiders', have the power to use his body to do whatever it is you want. They can't presses charges against you, after all. You're not real anyways, not according to state laws." He shook his head. "Man, I don't believe this. An insider, with his own insiders. The Shooter in me think's you're on to something, Mr.Todd."

Willy appeared out of no where. "Why do you want to kill this Barbra guy so badly, anyways?"

Sweeney held his knife up, staring at the glint of the candle light it reflected. "Let's just say these haven't seen a good blood spill in a while."

Willy frowned. He pointed to the knife. "Aren't those shaving razors? You're not actually suposed to cut yourself with those, you know."

Sweeney gave him a glare that instantly silenced him.

"Whatever happens," Mort said. "I'm not involved, whatsoever." he turned, disapearing into the darkness.

"Anyone else?" Sweeney called. The others made their presence known.

"As I said before," Ichabod said. "I do believe the consiquences of whatever it is you're planning, Mr.Todd, do not level out as nicely as you think. If anything happens, it will happen to Jack."

"That's the beauty of it." Sweeney replied.

"You don't understand," Ichabod went on. "We are all a part of him. We go where he goes. If he spends the rest of his life rotting away in a cell, well then.."

In a swift movement, Sweeney brought the blade in front of Ichabod's face, which grew paler than usual.

"Shut it, or I'll slice you first." Sweeney said.

Ichabod swallowed hard, his eyes rolled and he teetered backwards, Willy caught him before he hit the ground. Fortunatly, he did not black out this time.

Sweeney ignore him and staring down at the knife in his hand with an eery satisfaction.

__

"Soon, I'll unfold you.Soon you'll know splendors  
You never have dreamed  
all you days,  
my lucky friends  
'Til now your shine was merely silver.  
Friends, you shall drip rubies, you'll soon drip precious rubies..."

He sang, before he glanced down at Jack, who other than a few irritated snores, was still seemingly unaware of anything suspicious. He shut his eyes.

"No!" Ichabod shouted, as he realised what Sweeney was about to do. He overcome his cowardice, if only for a moment, to try and hold him back, pulling him away from Jack. "I won't let you!"

Sweeney fought to get away, and almost suceeded until Sam grabbed his other arm, pulling it back. Between the two of them, they almost overpowered him, but his right arm broke free and swung at Sam, who gasped, holding his own hand. It had been slashed across the palm. Sam winced.

"Ow..ow..ow..." he said. As the other three attended to Sam's wound, Sweeney seized the opportunity. His eyes shut again. When they opened, they were Jack's.

He couldn't see any other insiders, although he heard their protests inside his - Jack's- head. He could feel their attempts to pull him back in, but he fought, as he climbed up the stairs onto the main deck. The crew was hard at work, under the moonlight. Sweeney walked to the Captain's cabin, his hand on Jack's sword. He carfully opened the door and slipped inside. Barbossa was in a chair, fast asleep.

" Perfect." he muttered. He took Jack's sword, held it over Barbossa's throat and brought it back, ready to chop. The steel swung and hit another steel, which blocked Sweeney's swing. Sweeney stumbled back, dumbfounded. He saw that the other steel was not a sword, but long scissors, and that they were attatched to the wrists of a man dressed in black. They were his hands.

The man had a young face, chalk-white in complexion, with pale scars running over the flesh in random places. His hair was black, like Sweeney's, and stuck straight up from his head. His torso appeared to be not made of flesh, but metal. At first glance, Sweeney thought that he was seeing a younger version of himself.

"Don't hurt him." The boy said in small, timid tone.

Sweeney stared, stunned. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't hurt him," he repeated. "Please."

Sweeney looked down at the boy's hands. "How did you do that?"

"What?"

"Put those scissors on your hands like that."

"I didn't." he replied. "I'm not finished."

Sweeney raised an eyebrow. He cautiously reached out, and touched one of the blades. The young man flinched.

"Brilliant." he murmered. "Wish I'dve thought of it...Scissors for hands. You put me to shame, boy. You could slash 3 or 4 throats at once."

"I... I don't slash throats." the boy said. "I only cut."

Sweeney gave a dark smile. "But why not slash? It's less time consuming, and more blood will spill. Rubies, precious rubies...Surely you are not a barber like myself?"

The boy gave a slight, sudden nod. A smirk appeared on his small dark mouth.

"Has no one told you? I am the greatest barber to ever meet Fleet Street. If you think that you can out do me with all of those scissors, you are sadly mistaken, my friend. Shall we have us a challenge, then? That is if you can find a suitable cadidate."

The younger man stood for a moment before he turned and walked awkwardly out onto the deck. he returned dragging an undisturbed sleeping pirate who may have passed out on the deck. He plopped him into a chair.

"Alright," said Sweeney. "I shall take that one." He ripped the table cloth from beneath Barbossa's spread of food on the table and tied it around the neck of the pirate. The boy didn't use a sheet, as it would be difficut for him to tie it with his bladed fingers. Sweeney prepared himself, sharpening his blades and creating lather from a bar of soap and a jug of water.

"Ready?" he asked. The man gave a nod. Sweeney went to work, shaving the pirate's bearded face, diligently, and quickly. The other man busily snipped and trimmed at a rapid pace. They finished near the same time. Sweeney smiled as he surveyed his results. Even if the pirate's face was still caked with the grim and grit of the sea life, he was now clean-shaven, which was an improvement. He looked over at Captain Barbossa and was startled at what he saw. The awkward young man had used his scissors to leave all but one long twirling strip of beard sticking straight out from his chin. One side of his hair had been trimmed to almost nothing, and styled to resemble something of a wave. The other had hardly been touched.

The boy smiled proudly.

Barbossa stirred, becoming aware of someone in the room, he thought more than one. As he opened his eyes, his doubled vision adjusted, and he saw that there was only one figure in the room.

"Jack.."he croaked. "What are you doing here? This be the Captain's cabin. You should be.." He paused, as he caught a glimpes of himself in the reflection of the water jug. He lifted it, touching his hand to the short side of his hair, and staring at his reflection in horror.

"What have you done to me?"

He studied Jack's face, not identifying the difference between his expression and Sweeney Todd's.

"You filthy scoundrel! You bloody simpleton!" he threw the jug against the wall, as he leapt to his feet. He drew his sword. "I'll have yer head!!" he screamed.

'Jack' began to run, fleeing out the door, with Barbossa chasing him.

"Get back here, you yellow-bellied swab! I'll cut out yer bones!" He screamed, as the crew stopped to stare. "Throw that man overboard!" he demanded.

This was when Sweeney decided to let Jack out, at such an unfortunate time. Jack became aware that he was running from something, but he didn't know what. He skidded to a stop once he reached the end of the ship, so hard that he lost balance and fell.

"Arrrrrrgh!!" Barbossa boomed as he lunged at him, his sword raised high above his head. Jack saw it come down straight for him. He rolled out of the way, and it stuck between the planks.

"What is this all about, old man?" Jack demanded, as Barbossa was distracted enough, trying to get his sword unstuck. He stopped, glaring into his eyes with sheer rage. That was when Jack noticed the hair and the beard, and couldn't help but laugh. Barbossa yanked his sword from the planks and he thrust it under Jack's nose.

"You keep yer _selves _under control from now on, you hear? Or you'll all be gutted one by one and tossed to the hammerheads."

As he stormed away, back to his cabin, Jack stood feeling completely clueless. he climbed down into the lower decks, finding himself surprisingly alone.

"Alright, where are you?" he called into the darkness.

He waited. No answer.

"If you don't come out now and tell me which one of you did that, I'll beat you all out of me."

But his threat was useless. Tired, and irritated, he decided to go back to sleep and hope that he stayed asleep. He didn't know how or if he would ever get use to awakening to his body in motion. Before he reached his bunk, something cold and sharp touched his shoulder.

"Mr. Todd." He said. "I should've known." he turned to face him and cried out in surprise when he saw the unfamiliar and startling face of himself as a young man with dark features.

He examined the boy, lifting his wrist and studying the blades which dangled from what should have been his hand. Nothing about the others impressed him anymore. Each of them were strange in their own ways.

"Just when I think there couldn't possibly be anymore of you.." he mumbled.

Behind him, appeared Willy, Mort, Ichabod and Sam, who all stared at the new comer.

"Have you ever seen anything so mystifying?" Willy asked, sufficiently impressed.

"Frightening is the word I would have chosen" murmured Ichabod, who was beginning to tremble again. "Hellish, even. Perhaps you're a relative of Mr.Todd's?"

"I'm Edward." said the boy.

Sam approached, looking him up and down with caution. He reached for his hand. "Are those real?"

When Edward raised his hand, probably to shake Sam's, Sam lept back in fear. The hand Sweeney had sliced earlier was now tightly bandaged.

"It's alright, Sam." Willy said, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "He won't hurt you, will you?"

Edward shook his head.

"Ah, see? he's friendly."

Jack snickered. "You should see what he did to Barbossa."

**Dat's all for now folks! :D**


End file.
